


Living on

by bluesaturn



Series: Pride Month 2020 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android hate but only for a little bit, Angst, Bisexual Hank Anderson, Connor uses they/them pronouns, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Gay Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Nonbinary Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Pride Parades, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24489808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaturn/pseuds/bluesaturn
Summary: When Hank finds out, that the cute twink he picked up at a pride parade is an Android, he is horrified and wants to just forget about the whole thing. But there’s just something about Connor that makes them impossible to forget...
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Pride Month 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769089
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Living on

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you all! :)   
> This work is part of a series I’m doing for Pride Month. I know a lot of people are really bummed because Pride Parades in a lot of places are canceled. I’m hoping to cheer you up with this a little bit and be a safe place for all of you, if only for a couple of minutes. I’m more than happy to take suggestions, no matter if it’s a fully fleshed out prompt or you just being “I’ve always wanted to read nonbinary Gavin Reed!” :)   
> Happy Pride Month!!

Hank hasn’t been to a Pride Parade in years. It’s the middle of July and the sun is shining bright and the weather is the hottest it has been all year so far. Hank can feel his shirt sticking to him and the air is humid. He can feel himself getting out of breath already and kind of regrets how little exercise he’s had lately.   
Despite all of that Hank is glad Gavin convinced him to join him today. 

It is quite ironic that Gavin has been the one to pull him back from the edge after Hank had nearly pushed himself into a drunken coma once again. It had been after those fucking stupid machines had decided they were _alive_ and Hank hadn’t been able to think of anything but Cole and the Android that had failed to save his life and he had drunken ‘til he could barely remember his own name anymore because he just wanted to forget. 

Had it not been for Gavin showing up at his doorstep that same night he would have been dead, doctors had told him as much.   
Hank had been quite surprised the other man even cared, given how he usually commented on Hank’s drinking and his whole personality, really. But he had made sure Hank was safe and had made sure Hank actually got the help he needed afterward as well. 

It has taken Hank a while to realize that the rough persona Gavin often portrays isn’t much more than a facade. They have that in common. As it turns out Gavin Reed is only half as much of an asshole as he likes to pretend. 

So now Hank owes him, for still being alive, for still having a chance at… something.  
So when Gavin came up to him one day in the prescient with a cup of coffee and a nervous smile, he knew he couldn’t say no.   
Gavin looked at him with a look that said _please, I don’t wanna go alone_ and Hank had thought back to his first pride parade and how nervous he was and how much he had wished somebody would have come with him as well.   
So he had said yes and right now he is so glad he did. 

Hank sips on the overpriced water Gavin brought him and looks around.   
There are people holding pride flags on every corner, loud pop music is coming from the stage. Some people are dancing in front of it, sweating through their clothes even faster than Hank is in this unforgiving heat. And while Hank can’t exactly find much enjoyment in this type of music, he loves the atmosphere. Fuck, he’s missed this. 

He watches with an amused smile, as he sees Reed make his way through the crowd towards the stage. The detective then goes on to hit on another man via dancing way too close to him and Hank has to turn his eyes away before he manages to choke on his water.

To his surprise, he isn't alone for long. A person bumps into him, trying to make their way through the close crowd and causes Hank to spill the rest of his water all over his own shirt. Luckily in this heat, it will probably dry within minutes. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” a goofy voice says and Hank looks down into pleading eyes.  
The person staring back at him looks barely older than 25. There is a nonbinary pride flag wrapped around their shoulders that looks like it got splashed by some of the water as well. 

The kid is pretty, brown hair styled perfectly in a way Hank would never be able to achieve and the black jeans they’re wearing are just a little too tight. There is a small button on their leather jacket that says their pronouns are they and them, right next to one of a tiny dog. If Hank was 10 years younger and not a complete mess, he would be hitting on them right now. 

“It’s alright, kid,” he reassures them and gets a weak smile in response.   
“Let me at least buy you another drink,” they insist and well, Hank isn’t 40 anymore, but he also isn’t old enough yet to say no to that. 

“I’m Hank, by the way,” he says as they’re waiting in line for their overpriced drinks.   
But considering the heat and the fact that he’s quit drinking not too long ago, Hank _could_ really use another water.   
“I’m Connor,” the kid answers and smiles a breathtaking smile at him. 

Connor doesn't insist he try an alcoholic beverage like has happened to him quite a few times these last few months, and Hank is quite thankful for it. He doesn’t like having to tell half his life story to people he’s only just met. 

Still, Connor’s eyes are warm, their smile is genuine and Hank finds himself wondering if it’s worth months of Reed’s teasing to take the cute little twink home with him. Then Connor laughs at a joke he makes and puts their hand on Hank’s arm. The touch is electric and Hank decides: Yep, definitely worth it.

Hank doesn’t remember how to flirt. It has been years since he has last tried. His only hope is that Connor might be a little inexperienced because of their age and won’t notice Hank’s attempts at hitting on them are more than a little clumsy. 

Connor either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because two more expensive drinks later they grin at Hank and ask: ”Wanna get out of here?”  
And Hank’s definitely not old enough yet that he could ever say no to that. 

They make it into Hank’s car shortly afterward and Hank’s glad the drive isn’t too far. Within a few minutes, they arrive at his home.   
Hank can see Connor stealing glances at him from time to time, almost nervously. He guesses the kid doesn’t do this kind of thing too often. Hell, Hank can barely remember the last time he did this. 

He manages to actually get his keys into the lock at the second try and is relieved when they’re finally inside. Just when he has the door closed behind them, Connor steps closer until their bodies are pressed against each other. Their faces are so close that he can count all the little freckles and moles on their face. _Fuck_ , Connor is so beautiful.   
Hank’s not sure who is the one to move first, but he finds he doesn’t care when Connor’s lips finally brush against his own. 

Their lips are so soft and warm and Hank gets lost in the feeling. The slight pressure of Connor’s mouth against his, the way Connor’s hair feels in his hands. So soft.  
The way Connor’s moans into his mouth, like kissing Hank is the hottest thing they’ve ever done. The sound goes straight to his cock and he can’t help but push them around ‘til they manage to make it into Hank’s bedroom. 

He shoves Connor onto the mattress and the way Connor looks up at him is beyond hot. Hank leans down to them and catches their bottom lip between his teeth, sucking softly. The sound Connor makes is heavenly and Hank can’t wait to absolutely devour them. 

Connor’s hand is in his hair, their fingers tangled up in it and Hank’s about to kiss them once more as he sees something weird out of the corner of his eye. He blinks, tries to make sure what he just saw was nothing but an illusion. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have that much luck. There are spots on Connor’s hand, where their skin is supposed to be, but it has faded away, revealing white plastic underneath.

The realization hits him like ice-cold water and he moves away from Connor as fast as humanly possible, to the other side of the room. The look of shock on Connor’s face would be almost comical in literally every other situation. 

“You’re an Android,” he says.   
Hank’s not sure how he hasn’t noticed before. The way Connor’s skin feels, the texture kind of like velvet, close enough to feel human at first touch, but not quite right. His movements a little too calculated, a little too stiff to be human. The way he looked perfect, immaculate, while everyone else around him was sweaty because of the unbearable heat. 

Fuck, he hadn’t thought that…  
He just hadn’t thought.  
Hank can feel his stomach turning and is glad he’s eaten a fucking salad for lunch, on Reed’s insistence. He’s not sure he’d be able to keep his food down otherwise right now.  
He hasn’t wanted a drink this badly in months now and he can’t help the way his hands are shaking and he doesn’t dare stare in Connor’s face, as he must be realizing why Hank is upset by now. 

“Hank, I -”  
“Get out,” he presses out through clenched teeth and doesn’t make a move to even so much as look in Connor’s direction.  
He should have known he doesn’t get this lucky anymore. He is a fucking moron.   
“Hank, please -,” Connor says and Hank can’t help but stare at them now. Big fucking mistake. Connor’s face is like an open book that says   
Hank’s not gonna scream at them, no matter how badly he wants to.   
An unhealthy coping mechanism, his therapist’s voice sounds in his ears and Hank hates that he knows she is right.   
“Just go, Connor,” he says, his voice defeated and doesn’t watch as Connor heads out the door, without saying another word.   
Fuck, when has his life become so fucking complicated? 

Hard as he tries (and he tries pretty fucking hard), he can’t get Connor out of his head. The way it felt to kiss them. Their smooth skin underneath his fingertips. Hank’s fairly good at lying to himself, but even he can’t explain away why he’s jerking off in his shower with the image of Connor in his head and their name on his lips when he comes. 

Hank finds the piece of paper in his jeans pocket three days later.   
It’s just a simple phone number and a name written in perfectly even letters.   
He’s fairly certain Connor slipped it to him before he kicked them out of his house. Still, it opens up some possibilities and Hank tries not to think about the fact that even considering this feels like a betrayal to Cole. 

He considers texting Connor and it’s for all the wrong reasons. If he texted the kid it should be to apologize, to at least say “It’s not you, it’s me” or maybe to say “You’re wonderful and I’m an asshole, so go find someone better”.   
Hank definitely shouldn’t be thinking of just texting him the equivalent of “Hey, you up” and not thinking further about all his confusing, muddled up feelings. He doubts he’d get an answer to it, but it would still just be as bad to send it either way. 

If he was still drinking, he’d drown himself in enough whiskey that he’d be unable to care too much ‘til morning and pour his heart out. As it is, that’s not really an option and he’s not sure if he’s upset or relieved about that. 

He does eventually send that text though. It ends up being a weird mix of the three options and Hank hates every word of it. But he’d hate himself more if he didn’t try to make it right.   
So he starts typing while silently cursing out Reed for making him quit drinking. 

Look at him, from insisting plastic can’t be alive to caring whether he hurt a machine’s feelings or not in just a matter of a couple of days. Hank wishes the times back when the newest technology couldn’t yet talk back at him and look at him as if he broke their heart. 

_“Hey Connor. I wanted to apologize for how I behaved on Saturday. I have some baggage with Androids and I wasn’t expecting you to be one. I’m really sorry and if you would like to give me a second chance, I’d like to see you again.”_  
His phone beeps.   
_“Okay.”_  
Then a second text arrives, a moment later:  
 _“Can we talk about this in person?”_

Hank stares at that one in quiet disbelief.  
Either Connor’s self-esteem is worse than Hank’s own or they plan on murdering Hank. Both seem like equally valid options. At least he can’t think of any other reason Connor would want to see him again.

Hank supposes though he owes the Android a proper apology so he texts back a “Yes” without thinking too much about it. Puts his Address underneath it, as if a walking computer with a super brain would have been able to forget it. He’s not quite sure if Connor will even be comfortable with coming to Hank’s house again. Probably should have asked. His thumbs are hovering over the phone’s keyboard to do so, as he gets another message. 

_I’ll be there in an hour._

Fucking Androids. An hour is definitely not enough time to get the house into any kind of state that he would usually let a visitor in, so Hank decides to settle for a shower. He’s not sure if Androids even have a sense of smell but he knows he’ll feel better if he doesn’t look like he’s half-dead.

He does clean up and puts on some not-stained clothes, even manages to at least throw away some take-out containers as well. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best he can do in that amount of time. Fuck knows why he’s even trying. 

It’s _exactly_ an hour later that his doorbell rings and Hank opens the front entrance to find Connor standing there. They still look pretty, even if they’ve traded the jeans for a pair not quite as tight-fitting and ditched the leather jacket this time around. Hank steps to the side and lets Connor in his home once again. 

Connor heads for the living room and sits down on the couch, their back a little too stiff to look relaxed. Hank’s halfway through offering Connor something to drink, before he remembers they can’t drink. Right, Android. He hates the fact that he can’t fill himself up a glass of whiskey either because there is no alcohol whatsoever in this house. He knows it’s for the best though, so he tries not to feel too bitter about it. 

Hank sits down next to the Android, trying to keep a respectful distance. He doesn’t want to make the poor kid any more uncomfortable than he already has. (And here he is, admitting Connor might _feel_ something about the whole ordeal, not even a single beer in him. What has this world come to anyway?) 

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Connor says and yeah, that makes two of them.   
But since they are here, with that lost look on their face and an LED on their temple, that looks completely weird there and is constantly blinking yellow, Hank knows he needs to apologize. It’s what he owes Connor least of all. Because if he acknowledges that Connor can feel, he also has to acknowledge that he’s hurt them. And Connor doesn't look like they’re planning on murdering Hank in the next few minutes, so there’s that. He sits down on the couch next to them.   
“I’m sorry”, he starts and it sucks a bit that Connor looks so surprised at the words. Like they hadn’t actually thought they’d get a proper apology out of him. Fuck, Hank is an ass.   
“Why did you - “  
“I kinda have a complicated history with Androids.”

He interrupts Connor’s question by starting to open the buttons of his shirt. Connor’s dear in the headlight look is hilarious, but he’s definitely not planning on seducing them right now.   
Instead, he shoves the fabric to the side to reveal the large scar across his stomach.   
“See this scar?”, he asks and then takes a deep breath, not quite ready to share his biggest heartache with someone that is practically still a stranger. 

“I had a son. One day, while I was driving him home from soccer practice, we got into a car accident. The other driver was drunk and hit us pretty badly.”   
He can see Connor’s eyes on him, listening attentively, still not running away for some reason. It’s hard to tell the story, even after all these years. Especially without any alcohol to numb the pain, but he powers through it, trying not to care about the fact he can feel himself getting teary-eyed already.  
“It hit Cole worse than me. We were in the middle of the highway but not one other person around. Only one there was an Android, working at a construction site. He called 911 and came over to help.”

Hank can feel his fingers shaking, wants so badly to reach for a bottle of whiskey he knows he can’t have. Shouldn’t have. Instead, Connor reaches for his hand, carefully, like they’re afraid Hank is gonna bite their head off and it makes him hate himself just a tiny bit more.   
He takes Connor’s hand, lets himself be comforted, and tries to not see it as betraying Cole. Tries to see it as living on. (There’s no moving on, but there’s still living, he deserves to do. He tries not to think about the irony of the fact that Gavin Reed of all people taught him that.) 

“He looked at both mine and Cole’s wounds and did some calculations in his head. Said that even if he helped Cole ‘til the ambulance arrived he only had a survival chance of 2%. Mine looked better at about 40% with help, so I was the logical choice.” 

Connor’s stroking his hand in calming motions, but they don’t say anything. They just listen as Hank cries his heart out once again.   
“I tried to argue with him, tried to get him to help Cole regardless. But it was in his programming to help the person most likely to survive, so he did it. And I hated him for it. I’ve hated him for so long. I knew the person that took my son from me was that drunk driver but I blamed the Android too. Blamed him for not even giving Cole a chance. I shouldn’t have been his priority.”

Hank is silent for a moment after and Connor shuffles closer, carefully, as if they’re scared Hank will reject them again. But he doesn't. He lets Connor pull him into an awkward side hug until he calms down enough again to finish his story. 

“And then the revolution happened,” Connor says, a sad look of understanding in their eyes.   
“Yeah. We got cases of deviant Androids at the DPD for a while. And then everything changed in a few days. And suddenly Androids were saying they’re alive. All I could think about is watching Cole die right in front of me, while that Android refused to listen. And I realized he had a choice, could have chosen to save my son if he had just - not listened to his stupid programming, if he’d just _cared_ and it was all too much. I almost drank myself to death in the aftermath of all this shit. Gotta thank Reed for the fact that I’m even still around.”  
“I’m so sorry”, Connor says and their voice sounds so sincere and genuine that Hank just wants to run for the hills. But he stays right there, in Connor’s arms, until he manages to stop crying.   
“I think, I understand now. I’m sorry for opening up old wounds,” Connor says and it sounds so stiff Hank wonders if it’s a pre-downloaded apology. It doesn’t matter either way. 

“I can’t understand what you’ve been through, but - I too lost someone,” Connor offers up after a moment’s hesitation.   
Hank should just let the kid go, should stop this whole... whatever this is. But he can’t. He wants Connor to stay, wants to let them in. He’s too weak to fight it right now. 

“What happened?”, he asks and Connor starts telling their own story.  
“It was during the revolution. She was my best - perhaps my only - friend and I - I caused her death,” they say. “Not intentionally, of course, but I couldn’t protect her and I still - I still can’t stop thinking about it.”   
Connor looks more human, their LED blinking red, their face flushed blue, than they ever did when Hank first saw them. He can’t quite explain the feeling he gets when he looks at them, but he simply pulls Connor into another hug and they sit there, quietly and holding onto each other for a long while. 

Hank’s not sure how much time has passed - could have been minutes or hours, fuck if he knows - but he’s the first one to speak. Mainly out of curiosity. He brushes his thumb over the LED on Connor’s temple and can feel Connor tense up at the first contact and then quickly relax when he realizes Hank’s not about to say anything bad. 

“So what’s up with that?”, he asks and Connor sighs and shifts around uncomfortably in his arms.   
“I usually don’t take it out. But a friend of mine went to a Pride Parade in Chicago last week and he got attacked for being an Android. Apparently an Android hate group has been attacking people at parades, so he asked me to be safe. So I did take it out. Sorry for deceiving you”, Connor ends their sentence with a little lopsided smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes. 

Hank feels burning fury at the words, remembering all too well the times he took cases like this because no one else wanted to be involved with _all that political stuff_. Not really caring that it wasn’t just politics but people's actual lives they were talking about. Lives like his. 

“That’s fucked up,” he mumbles and Connor shrugs but he can see at the still red LED that they clearly don’t feel as unmoved by it as they act.   
“I know, I’m a hypocrite, but it’s the same fucking thing. You’d think people would realize that by now”, Hank mumbles quietly, half only to himself and curses humanity once again. 

Connor smiles at him, actually smiles this time and Hank swears he can feel his heart skip a beat. Fuck, this Android is gonna be the death of him.   
Finally, they disentangle from each other so Hank can get himself some food to eat. Connor stands next to his couch, unsure look on their face, clear as an open book. 

“Can I stay?”  
Hank doesn’t have Android - super hearing, so he almost doesn't hear Connor’s silent voice. Almost.  
He probably should say no. That kid deserves way better than him, deserves to feel safe and not be hated for what they are. But Connor wants to stay, has seen the worst of Hank and is still inside his kitchen, inside his home and they don’t want to run. And Hank owes them, owes them so much, and if Connor wants to stay - he can’t say no. So he just nods and Connor’s smile could probably light up the whole room. It’s been a long time since anyone has smiled at him like that and it makes his heart ache in all the best of ways. 

Connor helps him with making dinner, despite every single one of Hank’s protests and then proceeds to stare at him, while Hank eats, since they themselves can’t. It feels a little weird and uncomfortable at first, but it’s really not weirder than crying while Connor holds him in their arms, so who cares. 

Hank feels exhausted and all he wants is to get some sleep. He hesitates only for a second, before inviting Connor into his bedroom.   
It’s definitely a different atmosphere this time around, not sexy, but intimate nonetheless. It takes a long moment of rummaging through his closet to find something that will only be somewhat too big on Connor and he hands the nightgown, he’s fairly certain his sister left at his place years ago, to the Android with a smile. 

“I don’t have to -” Connor starts to protest but Hank interrupts them.   
“Just put it on. You can’t sleep in this”, he mumbles, gesturing vaguely at Connor’s jeans that look way too uncomfortable. Well, for a human at least.   
“Technically I don’t sleep,” Connor mumbles and Hank rolls his eyes. 

He tries not to stare at them, as Connor quickly changes clothes and slips under the blanket. Connor lies down next to him and Hank pulls him close after a moment’s hesitation. He’ll have enough time to panic about this in the morning, but for now, he just wants to be close to them. Connor looks surprised again but he doesn’t say a thing. Just cuddles closer to Hank.   
“Goodnight, Hank,” they say and for the first time in a long time, Hank actually feels okay.  
“Goodnight, Connor,” he says and knows he’s stepping into the unknown. There will be a lot to think and talk about tomorrow but for right now, this feels good. This feels right. 

Hank never would have thought he’d ever see the day he’d willingly let an Android into his bed. But Connor is there and Hank knows he needs to stop pretending this isn’t right where he wants them to be. It’s time to be honest with himself. Time to live on with Cole’s memory and make new ones. Even ones he never thought he could make. So he holds Connor and tries not to push them away at knowing this will be so much more than the hookup he originally thought it was going to be. 

Hank wakes up to the smell of Pancakes coming from his kitchen. He blinks a few times while the events from yesterday come back to his mind. He’s not sure if he’s anxious or relieved that Connor is still here, so he settles for a confusing mix of the two. 

Hank gets dressed slowly and then wanders into his kitchen. If someone had told him a year ago, that one day an Android would be standing in his kitchen, wearing what suspiciously looked like Hank’s hoodie and making breakfast for him, he would have punched them in the face. Hell, he probably would have done the same a couple of days ago still. Now, however, the sight is almost… endearing. 

“Morning,” he mumbles and Connor turns around, a bright smile on their face.   
“I made breakfast,” they say unnecessarily and gesture for Hank to sit down.   
He does as he’s told and Connor places the plate filled with pancakes as well as a cup of coffee in front of him. Fuck, Hank can’t remember the last time anyone made breakfast for him.   
“Thanks,” he mumbles awkwardly and there’s a weird silence between them as Hank stuffs his face with pancakes and Connor just stares at him. 

“So..,” Connor says when Hank has finished his third pancake.   
And Hank doesn’t remember how to do any of this anymore. He doesn’t know if he still shouldn’t rather tell Connor to run for the hills.   
“You know this a terrible idea,” he says between sips of his coffee.  
Connor tilts their head as if they’re thinking.   
“I haven’t really made any terrible mistakes yet. Thought I might give it a try.”  
Hank snorts at that.   
But he meant what he said yesterday, he doesn’t really have any reason to push Connor away anymore, other than his own insecurities. So if Connor is here and they’re willing… 

“You sure?”, he asks one last time and Connor nods and a moment later he has an Android sitting in his lap.   
He looks at their face once more, committing every freckle, every mole to memory before he leans down and kisses them. It’s different than their first kiss, sweet and soft and Hank can tell this kiss will mean a lot more than the last one. He doesn’t try to think about what exactly before he ends up locking himself away. He can still freak out about this later. 

Instead, he leans into the kiss, buries his hand in Connor’s hair and kisses them until he runs out of breath. He’s not entirely sure when their kisses turn from sweet and soft into passionate ones. But he can’t shake the feeling when Connor moans directly into his mouth and his dick twitches in interest. 

“Bedroom?”, he asks and Connor’s small nod is all the invitation he needs. Connor is heavier than they look, but Hank still manages to lift them with relative ease and carry them into his bedroom.   
He throws Connor onto the mattress like they weigh practically nothing and he can see the lust in Connor’s eyes at that. He saves this as _interesting_ info in case he’s lucky enough to ever get to do this again. 

Their fingers interlock and Connor’s skin fades away, revealing white plastic underneath. Connor looks nervous as if they’re scared Hank is gonna throw them out again. He hates himself for putting this look on Connor’s face in the first place but he will do his best to make it go away now. He keeps holding on to Connor’s hand, while he presses kisses to their skin, whispering sweets words to them at the same time. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says and the way Connor blushes under his praise is almost adorable.   
It’s true though. Hank’s fairly certain there isn’t a person in this world that wouldn’t look at Connor and think _they’re beautiful._   
Connor comes undone underneath his hands and lips and Hank doesn’t pull away as Connor’s skin recedes wherever his fingers glide, doesn’t pull away as Connor’s moans start to sound more like static than human noises.   
He doesn’t pull away.   
The sound Connor makes when they come is anything but human and fuck, if it isn’t the hottest thing Hank has ever heard. 

They lie in Hank’s bed in the aftermath and he searches through his nightstand until he finds a pack of cigarettes. Hank hasn’t smoked in a very long time and the cigarettes don’t taste as good as he remembers, but inhaling deeply still helps him calm down. He’s halfway through offering Connor a drag before he remembers that they can’t smoke. Right. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to all of it. 

Hank takes the third drag of his cigarette, as he finally turns to look at Connor. They look perfect as always, but their hair is all messed up and their skin is flushed. It’s a good look on them, Hank decides. It makes them look more...alive.

“Cole loved robots”, he offers up into their silence.   
Connor’s smile is soft, almost fragile.   
“He used to draw them constantly. Thought Androids were really cool. Haggled me that he would like to have one. I didn’t want to. Considered it after my wife left tho, so he wouldn’t be so alone. Didn’t have a chance to suggest it to him anymore.”   
Connor lays their hand over his, holds onto him reassuringly. Hank’s not sure why they’ve decided that Hank deserves any of their support.  
“I think he would have liked you.”  
No lie there. He can basically see Cole’s smile upon meeting Connor and the thought hurts less than he thought it would.   
Connor beams at him.  
Hank’s not sure when they’ve moved from one-night-stand to Hank wanting to ask Connor to stay. 

“Connor, I’m not sure -”  
Hank’s not sure how that sentence is supposed to end.  
But Connor being Connor understands. Of course. Can probably scan his heart rate, his stress levels and a bunch of other shit that is only short of actually reading Hank’s mind.  
“I understand.”  
Soft, brown, warm eyes meet his and Hank wonders if he’s actually lost his mind. Does it matter?

There’s no moving on for him, but there’s _living on._ Maybe it starts right here, with forgiving that Android for not trying to save his son when he was already beyond saving. Maybe it starts right here, with realizing he’s been unfair. Maybe it starts right here with admitting to himself that he doesn’t want Connor to go.

“Connor? Stay the night?”, he asks, despite the fact that it’s barely past noon.   
Connor smiles up at him and it’s the most beautiful smile Hank has ever seen.   
“I’d love to.”

He’ll ask them out on a proper date tomorrow, when he’s gathered the courage and can think of something fun to do with someone that doesn’t eat or drink. But for now, this is good.

Hank pulls Connor closer, kisses them softly and imagines a world where he gets to wake up to this every morning. It’s not a terrible thought and that should scare him shitless, but it doesn’t. 

He used to think that he had already had had his chance in life with Cole, that despite his best efforts to stop drinking and get his life back in order, this would be the best it gets for him. He barely dares to hope for more, but there is that look in Connor’s eyes and he begins to realize that maybe he was wrong. This isn’t the day he finally breaks. But maybe it is the day where his life starts anew.


End file.
